The Lake House

Kate Forester (Bullock) is a lonely doctor who exchanges love letters with frustrated architect Alex Wyler (Reeves), the new resident of her lakeside dream house. When they find out that they are in fact living two years apart, they try to unravel the mystery behind their extraordinary romance via the written word.

(Why didn't he just ring her?) In this Back To The Future meets You've Got Mail meets Sliding Doors meets Memento meets who knows what else, The Lake House might not be the worst film ever made but it's damn close. (Why didn't he just ring her?) The ambitious plot falls on its ass ten minutes in and never gets up again as the ridiculous quickly turns into the laughable. (Why didn't he just ring her?) Constantly switching between time lines and then mixing them together, The Lake House overly confusing storyline centres on the narration of the two leads and while Sandra Bullock lacks charisma; her co-star relives his robotic delivery of Johnny Mnemonic. (Why didn't he just ring her?) It's absolutely amazing that through writing, development, pre-production, production, shooting and editing that no one stopped and suggested that the premise just might be a big dirty sack of baggy pantaloons. If you ever happen upon the director and have the nerve to ask him, as politely as you can, what the hell that was about (and why didn't he just ring her?), he might use the 'Chewbacca Defence' and no one would blame him, as it would make more sense than his film.